The meaning of Christmas
by Ashes of Stars
Summary: Draco cannot get his head around the idea of Christmas and the happiness it contains, so when Harry finds out about his cyicism, can he entice Draco to enjoy himself this Christmas? Oneshot and a santa suit!


_**Disclaimer**: I am working furiously against Christmas, but that doesn't mean I can't have fun whilst doing that; so here I am writing a story, using characters, places and inanimate objects I don't own (I borrowed the hat from Mr. Claus's very handsome son). _

_**Rating**: I tried to make it as sexy as possible whilst still sticking to M guidelines. I do not recommend putting in front of a child to read, so don't. Neither read it if you can't stand two people liking sex, cause you're frigid and I hate you!_

_**Thank You's**: To **LonelyNoMore** for reading, loving and always being a faithful review, this is dedicated to you for being such a wonderful friend. Also dedicated to my boyfriend, who without I wouldn't be able to write from the sexual core of my being. You fuel, inspire and turn me on. I love you Mark! With all my heart!_

_Merry Christmas, hope you enjoy and find the meaning of Christmas in your own little ways._

Draco seethed as he watched Harry from across the library, being tainted by all the happy coloured tinsel and Christmas cheer buzzing around the Golden boy, not that Harry was wearing a lot of tinsel, just a small piece had fallen on his shoulder as the Weaselette floated lovingly around the black haired boy.

Draco was alone, studying furiously so he could impress his mother with how much he knew and he had been doing so for the last two weeks. Solitary he sat, day after day in the quiet comfort of the library which happened to be the only place without the festive spirit knocking into everyone in Hogwarts. Draco hated Christmas; the way everybody smiled, rushed to buy things the receiver of which would never use and especially the fake smiles his family plastered on their faces. Naturally Christmas was not a good time for Draco as it was to colourful, which hurt his tired eyes. Having been in the darkness most of his life he found it hard to accept anything but grey, dismal concoctions of life.

So when he saw the happy face of Harry, surrounded by his friends who also had festive faces his mood darkened to match that of the deepest, scariest hour of a five year olds Halloween. How dare they disturb his peace? His only present would be exactly that this year; peace as he would get none at home. All he wanted to do was be alone, confined to the small chair he sat on in the normally dark, quiet library but it seemed that nothing would be that easy for him.

With glee he noticed Harry's friends leave the boy behind as they made their way from the library, leaving Harry alone to study. Harry had a huge grin on his face and as Draco studied Harry instead of the book he should be studying he noticed that the grin was hindering Harry from even registering what the boy was reading.

Suddenly Draco didn't seem to even remember anything that was good about Christmas. He just didn't get it; the colours, the feelings, the glee! What on earth could wash away so many dark hours of a person's life for a stupid holiday? There wasn't an ounce of truth in anything out there, not even in that infuriating Muggle Santa Claus that everyone seemed to rejoice about! It was like being an alcoholic; all year people claw themselves towards the holiday as a sense of release from the world, their problems and their pain, only to find once it's over there is that come down where all your problems release themselves.

Draco just didn't get it. His anger towards the incessant happiness was only fuelled when Harry looked up to the potent stare of Draco and smiled a genuine happy smile. Draco hated that, the beautiful radiance of Harry. Then he hated the smell of cinnamon which only served to remind him of Christmas, and then he detested the story of Jesus he once loved so much because it reminded him of Harry; the saviour, the golden boy, the one grinning at him still.

"What Potter?" Draco snapped, livid at all the horrid Christmas gestures. He remembered how Pansy decorated the Slytherin common room in all the colours of Christmas, especially that Gryffindor red he so loathed. Then he remembered how his aunt Bellatrix would kiss him on the cheek, every single Yuletide holiday and plaster her gross red lipstick on his cheek, that only served to remind him of the vibrant red he would kill himself to never see again. Then Draco remembered that his blood would only be the cause of yet more remembrance to the colours, the awful colours.

Harry hadn't stopped grinning, instead he lifted his body of the chair he sat on only to walk towards the scowling boy, who couldn't help but look puzzled with his nose scrunched up like wrapping paper, ripped off a present and thrown on the floor. One more step brought Harry right before Draco, who scowled even more. "What Potter!" Draco snapped, his eyes catching the Gryffindor emblem on Harry's school robes which made Draco think of _that colour_.

Harry tried not to laugh when Draco snapped at him, because in truth Draco sounded like he was loosing a battle he ought not to be fighting. Harry had actually heard Draco squeak like a new born kitten and it was rather funny.

"I just wanted to say have a good Christmas, Draco…" Harry grinned the horrible grin once more only to turn away after a brief second of it. Draco couldn't help himself snap once more, like a Christmas cracker, at the retreating form of Harry.

"What's so precious about Christmas!" He sounded like a kitten being strangled whilst he stomped his foot on the ground and hit his hand against the desk in front of him. Merlin, he hated Christmas!

Harry whirled around surprised. Inquisitively he looked at Draco, and then let out a small chuckle. "Well, for you it must be the hordes of presents?" Harry guessed rather assumingly.

Draco glared. Presents? He thought. Yes he loved all the presents, who wouldn't? However at the end of the day it did nothing for him, because the presents were just another reminder of the one thing he couldn't get. It was the happiness he hated, the family gatherings, the way said family pushes you into dressing up and following pointless traditions, that wouldn't cause the world to end if they stopped. And so, after thinking about it a while Draco told Harry just that; he hated the happiness.

"That's absurd!" Harry laughed, "You hate the happiness. That's contradictory, because you're happy you get the presents. Isn't that something to be happy for?"

"What?" Draco squeaked, un-amused at the accusations of him being spoilt. It was true, he was a spoilt brat and even more so around Christmas with the piles of gifts from family and friends, but there was no happiness to be found in them. _At the end of the day_ he was left alone to play with said gifts, to face his problems whilst alone whilst playing with the gifts and then the glimmer of gratitude towards Christmas would be gone just like the wrapping paper disappeared after it was taken away from the present.

Harry moved to sit down across from Draco. He wanted to explain exactly what he felt about Christmas, because it was a good holiday after all, wasn't it? Harry had doubts often, whilst he spent the holidays locked up at Hogwarts but none the less it still felt good. "Christmas," Harry started, "Is about being thankful to those around you, for every little thing they have done to you…"

"I got that concept at least!" Draco snapped, infuriated with the seemingly condescending tone Harry displayed.

"Well think Draco! Don't you ever just want to rejoice in the happiness others give?"

"That's just it _Harry_, I don't get the happiness!" Harry sighed, ran his fingers through his hair to show just how exhausting this conversation was, and then tried a different approach.

"Are you ever happy?"

Draco looked offended. Of course he was happy! There were many things to be happy about, like being the centre of everyone's lives, whether it is through the torment he inflicted upon them or the love they just naturally felt about him. Again, he told Harry this.

"Yet, being the centre of everyone's lives- the ones that love you I mean- will make them buy you presents yet you still loose that happiness? Are you just morbid by nature or by nurture?" Harry asked, completely dumbfounded at the cynicism littering the festivities.

Draco mimicked physically what Harry felt; dumbfounded. He looked into Harry's eyes, momentarily to try and see inside the boy who could only be happy, only to see the green of the eyes looking at him and think of Christmas trees. Draco quickly looked at his pale hand and was reminded of snow, and he darted his eyes about all over the place just for a reason to not think of Christmas.

His eyes landed on Harry's hair. Black, only to resemble night time. What beautiful hair it was, even though it was messy, unconditioned and it needed a cut. But there it was; the momentary release from the Christmas plague! Harry had hair as black as anything, which meant a way to forget the awful holiday Draco had to try and live through. He then looked at Harry's golden skin, which was a reminder of summer. Draco loved summer, with the bright sun, warm air and the smell of freshly cut grass; none of the incessant cinnamon, gingerbread and awful colours that loomed over December.

"I like summer," Draco said as he gazed at the bronzed skin of Harry, "I feel happy in summer…"

"Can you not work towards that then?" Harry asked expectantly. Draco smiled, dazed, as he felt adoration for Harry's skin. It was so unlike the snow of his it just seemed special, unending.

"No!" Draco snapped as he realised what Harry had implied, "I can't work towards summer with the omnipresent happiness that is so false. Christmas is a farce!"

"Then what's so good about summer!" Harry asked in the same way Draco snapped. It was like a snowflake battling against the heat of sun, because in the end the fight was pointless because the sun would win only to die when night took over.

"Summer is a natural thing; it happens because it has to happen! Christmas is a way for business to do well, people to fake joy and people to hurt each other over and over again. It's sickening; the way people prance around when psychology proves people are depressed in winter because of the lack in sunshine! In summer you cannot help but feel happy because of the sun and what it induces within you!"

"And you want the rest of the world to be unhappy, because you don't have the ability to even_ try_?" Harry added. He hated to see people so down. Whilst the world around them could disappear, just for those few weeks of happiness, he could forget about Voldemort, the Dursley's and especially school. Why couldn't someone share the happiness every one else felt whilst they pranced around, faking it because the soul needed it?

"I just don't get it Harry, that's all…" Draco huffed, placing his head on one hand so he could look at Harry with his head on a tilt. Harry still reminded him of summer, and in a way the eyes Harry looked upon the suffering world with caused a sense of laying in grass, with the sun beaming down on you.

"Well, that's just sad. You should find a way to be happy, even just for a little bit." Harry stood up to go, determined that he would do just that. It was definitely pointless trying to convert Draco from pessimism to yuletide joy.

As Harry collected his things, only to walk away from the library, Draco said one thing aloud Harry just managed to catch hold of. "When I find that something, I will let you know…"

AxAxAx

Draco had arrived back at Hogwarts just as miserable as he had left it. He had received a new coat he was rather appreciative of in the cold weather around Scotland, a new pair of shoes he could only strut about in and many other things he was grateful to have, even though he suddenly forgot the happiness they gave and just got on with using them.

Christmas was horrid, with all the colours and smells he couldn't help but detest and of course there was Bellatrix' annual kiss on the cheek which he was sure he could still faintly see when he looked in the mirror. Christmas was also rather depressing because he caught a cold that refused to go; even with the pepper up potion he was given. He hated Christmas however for some silly reason he couldn't wait for summer.

Maybe it was what Harry had said, about looking forward to Christmas and all, yet he still couldn't shake off the looming Christmas fever every body laid upon each other. It was retched how everyone talked so animatedly about what they had been up to, got given and who they had seen over the Christmas break, all the while at the dining table for the welcome back feast. He felt rather resentful that all the hate towards the holiday he had shown Harry hadn't been absorbed by the boy, who sat doing what everyone else was doing across the hall from Draco himself; enjoying the leftovers from Christmas. Internally, Draco shivered at the optimistic view Harry had.

Draco did his best to brag about what he had gotten as presents, who he had spent the holidays with and what he had spent his time doing. Of course his rather livened up version was much grander than anyone else's in Slytherin, and so it stayed that the boy who reminded himself so much of snow stayed as the most popular in said house.

After dinner he retired to the library for an hour of peace; no one would be in the library that night as the festive joy was still in full force and there was so many people to talk to, to tell what they had been given.

One of the things Draco didn't tell anyone about, that he had received, was a beautifully bound book on the history of magic, he so desperately needed to read in order to pass the boring class. It would do him well to start reading the book as soon as possible, so he could pummel even Granger in the subject. He had expected the language of the book to be formal, the stories it told interesting and even the company in which he didn't share, in that library all alone by himself, rather satisfying.

That was until he was startled from his unaccompanied heaven by Harry. "Find it yet?"

"Find what Potter!" Draco snapped, irritated to be interrupted from his studying, no less so by Harry who had annoyed him in the same place once before.

"A thing to make you happy?" Harry asked whilst the grin was still in place; which happened to be the start of a dirty little plan in Harry's head.

"Oh…" Draco said in recollection, "No I didn't."

"You seemed eager to get up here, and that book looks new, does that make you happy?" Harry persisted, smiling that almost feral grin.

"It satisfies me, yes…" Draco answered honestly, "If I do better than Granger in history of magic then it will make me happy…"

"Yes, but exams are a summer thing. Did anything at Christmas make you happy?"

"Merlin, Potter!" Draco gashed the air between them with his voice, "I loathe Christmas! Nothing at all made me happy!"

"Are you sure?" Harry asked still beaming festively. Draco looked up only to nod, insistent that he hated bloody Christmas!

"Well," Harry tried his only tactic left, "Your coming with me! I don't want to have to think of you every year without a smile on your face, at least enjoying the holiday. Forget tolerating it," (At this point Harry had already pulled Draco up by the wrist and was pulling him down corridor after corridor), "Your going to love at least this Christmas passed…"

"Get off Potter!" Draco hollered as soon as he had the chance, but it was no use as he was already pulled into a room filled with all the festive nonsense he had nearly blinded himself over, just in the hopes of never ever seeing such ridiculous things again. His only reason for not doing so would be that he would miss the sun, the grass and the summer stars.

He was nearly sickened as he turned around and around in the room, horrified at everything around him. This was only made worse when his eyes landed on Harry, glaring at the boy who now stood in a Santa costume.

"What the hell are you wearing!" Draco yelled, shocked at the absurdity of it all. Harry wasn't stupid at all, no he was far passed that line; he was downright fucked in the head!

Harry was indeed standing there dressed like Santa Claus, without the beard or fat stomach. He, to anyone that cared for that kind of thing, looked like the sexiest piece of male stripper ever to walk the earth. He had the hat, oh yes he had the hat, and somewhere inside Draco he wanted to laugh at the hat. Just the hat; everything else was mortifying.

"Sit!" Harry ushered Draco to the only seat in the room, and Draco complied only wanting to see how much further this could go. Draco was handed a glass of red wine in a glass engraved with Christmas tree's, and he felt reluctant to drink from such a thing. If it wasn't for the utter need to get plastered in order to accept anything Harry was going to do he wouldn't have touched the glass. It was _happy_, so Merlin-awfully happy!

And then there was music, such music Draco had never heard however between his downing of the wine and the feeling it induced, and the slow sensual beats of the music floating through the room he started to feel more positive about his current situation.

Harry was in front of him, he noticed, smiling like the idiot he was. Slowly though, with the slight shaking of Harry's hips, Draco began to notice that Harry was a sexy, bumbling fool. It was rather nice to see Harry standing there, dancing for Draco and even more so that Harry had made Draco feel slightly elated.

Draco nearly died when the Santa jacket came off though, and it wasn't from the shock of it at all; that was only a part to play in the whole feelings he felt right then and there. Harry was running his hands down his chest, in time to the music no less, and then onto areas Draco never knew existed on Potter. Suddenly all he ever hated about Christmas was being directed towards Harry, all the energy he had ready to hate the next Christmas fired towards Harry and it wasn't even hate anymore! It was something sexy, that started at his fingertips and worked its way all over his body and it felt good.

And Harry was hard; he was enjoying this as much as Draco was! And he was dancing, and touching, and then he was on Draco's lap kissing the life out of Draco. What was once smelt as hell was now tasted as heaven as Harry had pulled away from Draco and popped a cinnamon flavoured candy his mouth, only to begin sharing it back and forth with Draco. And the grinding against his now very prominent cock was rubbing away each and every ounce of detest he had. It felt like every present he had received, all those glimmers of something happy at Christmas, in one then multiplied by sex… Merlin Draco hadn't ever had sex and it was the one thing left to receive!

And as Harry sucked on Draco's neck, marking the snow skin with marks as red as Christmas baubles, he realised he enjoyed the feeling of Christmas! Yes, here it was the every present festivity he had missed out on for so long.

Then there was when Harry became almost completely naked, the only thing left on Harry was the stupid hat that now looked so cunningly sexy. Draco couldn't bare it, he had to loose the clothes and let his snowy skin complement everything within the room. Fire, he felt on fire and he remembered all those times he sat before the raging Christmas fire at the Manor, hating the warmth it gave however now it didn't seem so bad; he could only feel lovingly enveloped by the heat.

Harry had stripped him of all clothing long before Draco registered the slight chill on his body. Somehow he was reminded of snow, falling on the face of someone who just stepped outdoors. He used to despise how the snow would make him cold, when all he craved was the summer but alas here was summer now warming the snow skin he owned, all its goose pimples fading with the lowering of Harry's body onto his ever so hard cock. As Harry's arse wrapped around Draco's dick that had never ever felt so hard, Draco though of a candy cane, the taste of which was a simple reminder of the cold of Christmas, and how when one sucks it, the hard exterior eventually turns into nothing! And oh bloody Merlin there was going to be nothing of Draco left, for when Harry rocked against his cock it felt so good, so head swimmingly good that he was going to disappear with the feeling of it all.

Harry placed his back against Draco's chest, the scorching flesh of his back being met with the sweaty skin of Draco, who relished in the memories of many silent internal tantrums towards the outside world at Christmas, and by the testing nature of such tantrums he would throw in the confines of his room how he would work up a sweat with the effort of it all, but this sex he was having was effortless, passionate and refreshing. It was summer, Harry was summer even though it was the after math of Christmas and Draco; he was the symbol of Christmas. And the sweat between them just made every ounce of it Draco had emitted from his body before this act of unholy yuletide-ness, even though necessary at the time, seem so unimportant. This sweat, this feeling, this Christmas was good.

Harry placed Draco's hand around his own member, desperately attempting to find the release he was now openly begging for; he wanted to come before Draco so he could work the blonde into a state of absolute forgetfulness of the season he so openly despised. Draco loved the feel of Harry in his hand, whilst his other hand stayed firmly on Harry's hip. This didn't feel like the hip he held at the Yule Ball, fourth year, when Pansy instead he dance with her the whole night, instead it was like holding the one piece of Christmas he had so annually forgotten.

And oh Merlin! Harry's pleads made him work harder to accomplish what he needed to do. And with every pump of Harry and into Harry he came closer to liking Christmas.

And when Harry came, the sticky substance coating the hand which used to stick a finger up at Christmas suddenly became the hand beckoning it for more.

And oh, sweet mother of Merlin! When Harry's arse tightened with orgasm around Draco's dick it suddenly became apparent that Harry was giving him a hold on Christmas; a reason to enjoy it!

And oh! Sweet! Merlin! Himself! When Harry demanded, whilst still working the panting, sweaty, once Christmas hating Draco, that he say he loved Christmas, the thought of it nearly tipped Draco off the edge. No word could be uttered; the mere thought of it sent him into that overdrive just before hitting orgasm. He was swirling in a sea of colours that just complimented the world without fail, and there was people singing songs of Yuletide and Joy and they sounded good and there was cinnamon, candy canes and the taste of summer, which was now Christmas, which was now Harry which was now the screamed words of pure ecstasy that Draco uttered because as he put it, as he thrust into Harry with the tipping of his thresholds to such wonderful pleasure: "I!FUCKING!LOVE!CHRISTMAS!... I love Christmas, I love red, I love cinnamon, I love peppermint… I!LOVE!CHRISTMAS!"

And there he collapsed back into the chair, his muscles relaxing whilst his breathing was still erratic. His mind raced, whilst his body ached and yet he never felt anything but adoration for what Harry did, and Harry's skin and Harry's summer resemblance and Christmas attitude mixed with the actuality of finally being happy at Christmas.

And that memory would last him, every Christmas until the day he died. Because eventually Draco did go back to hating the season just as much, even more so, than before Harry gave him the best present he ever received. He now had a secret though; that he knew Christmas wasn't so bad; it could even be nice at times. The truth of it was, he enjoyed Christmas, but only for one time a year when he would lock himself in his rooms and wank wearing the Christmas hat he stole from Harry after they parted, the evening Draco found the one thing that could make him happy at Christmas.


End file.
